The Ascension of Contracted Spirits

Chapter 905 - 360: Jester Emperor, Come and Meet Your Doom!_3

"Dare to disrespect gods and usurp superiors, death is well deserved..."

"Hiss!!!"

The brilliant red light illuminated half of Without-Sun City, leaving countless people in shock as they witnessed the return of a mythical skill, once only known in clan history, to reality overnight.

The bride—uttering a piercing scream from the depths of her throat.

She regretted it, regretting agreeing to the Jester Emperor, taking risks with her body, coming to this land of right and wrong.

She wanted to flee, to escape Without-Sun City, to return to the Abyss of the Red Dust, back to that nest called "The Well."

But she couldn’t, she could only watch helplessly as a divine arrow draped in red flames pierced through her brow and, along with her soul, shattered into pieces and decayed into mud.

"No! It shouldn’t be me who dies!!"

"Ye Clan... Ye Clan... you are treacherous and ruthless... one day, all heavens and ten thousand races will rise and attack you..."

The bride’s curse slowly dissipated in the wind.

Ye Hanjun lowered his divine bow, looked up at the sky, his facial expression cold and focused.

That colorful, luxurious palace built entirely of precious metals... shattered.

Beings who hadn’t reached the Supreme Level died en masse.

Despite the pervasive wails of despair, they sounded somewhat melodiously pleasant to the ear.

At that moment, Ye Shitian held a high position, gray hair, gray eyes, gray robe, the epitome of simplicity, the ultimate in plainness.

Compared to that colorful divine light, he was like an unremarkable, inconspicuous angel from the world of mortals, without any fancy adornments.

But what he held in his hand was the "Scythe of the Reaper," a symbol of the power of death!

Floating on either side of him, were special life forms known as "Death Witch Gods," devoid of Spirit Wisdom, yet overflowing with a malignant aura, any one of them could rival the Jester Emperor!

"Is this what they often refer to as ’dramatic’ in shows?"

"I haven’t sensed the presence of the Guangwu Clan for a long time. It seems some mishap has occurred with the Blood Witch, allowing you to find an opportunity to break and then stand, to find life in a desperate place, and to achieve the supreme body of the Crown Rank..."

The Jester Emperor no longer displayed his eerie smile, his lips slightly pursed.

Paired with his bulky clothes, towering hat, and the foundation-laden makeup, one could not help but find it grotesquely unattractive.

"The prosperity and flourishing of the Ye Clan appears to continue because of you..."

He parted his lips, intending to continue speaking.

"Whoosh!!!"

Disliking verbosity, Ye Shitian simply chose to swing his blade.

As the Scythe of the Reaper enlarged in mid-air, during the chop, the handle stretched over a kilometer long, and the restrained blade finally revealed its cold gray light to the world.

"Whoosh!!!"

The Death Witch Gods on both sides perfectly followed Ye Shitian’s trajectory.

One expelled a gray wall of light, blocking all six directions: front, back, left, right, up, and down, forming a "Prison of the Dead" in the void.

The other even reproduced the skills of the Blood Witch God, summoning a massive blood-red fist, smashing directly into the Jester Emperor’s face.

"Bang!!"

The Jester Emperor transformed into an afterimage, dodging the spatial confinement.

But he couldn’t escape from the Blood God Fist, and immediately his skin tore open, his eye-catching makeup was ruined, and dark blood trickled down his neck.

"What I hate the most is... someone hitting this face of mine..."

The Jester Emperor reached out a finger, touched his lips, and after confirming that he was indeed bleeding, the last trace of playful interest in his eyes completely disappeared.

He brought his hands together, flexing his wrists as the bones crackled.

Then he twisted his neck and rotated his ankles, which also made eerie sounds of loosening bones.

"Circus performance... Contortion Skill."

As he finished speaking in the ancient demonic language, the Jester Emperor moved.

His fleshy body became as thin as a sheet of paper, and with an angle unpredictable to normal humans, he dodged the second strike of the Blood God Fist.

Then, he rotated his head one hundred eighty degrees, exhaled gently, and a rainbow adorned the sky. The gray wall attempting to seal him suddenly tore open.

"Circus performance... Illusion Skill."

The second skill activated, and at least ten Jester Emperors weaved through heaven and earth.

They were all laughing playfully, appearing to be enjoying themselves.

But their movements changed rapidly, swift as monkeys or as quick as panthers, and soon even Ye Hanjun could no longer distinguish the figures clearly; the sky was filled with the Jester Emperor’s afterimages, making them hard to grasp and unpredictable.

"Circus festival... Dragon Dance Skill."

In a dizzying moment, two of the Jester Emperors abruptly changed form.

One took the form of a dragon’s head and the other of its tail, miraculously transforming into a hundred-thousand-meter-long rainbow dragon, fearlessly hurling itself towards the Clan Protection Formation of Without-Sun City.

"Circus festival... Death Tightrope."

Another Jester Emperor appeared, with an extremely thin wire under his feet, eerily wrapping around a Death Witch God.

With just one touch, the Witch God’s divine body was severed, a shadow of a rainbow emerging at the wound, desperately preventing it from healing.

"Circus festival... Ball Kingdom."

"Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Jester Emperor’s clones could all activate skills, and this time, indeed five Jester Emperors formed a pentagonal stage, erecting a grand performance platform.

On the stage, colorful lights shone brightly and uniformly on the five Jester Emperors at the center.

Consequently, billions of balls bounced through the air, their trajectories and impact forces so great that each could demolish a mountain range.

If these balls were allowed to keep bouncing, let alone Without-Sun City, even the Ghost Lamp Abyss would face a vast area reduced to permanent ruins.

"Die!"

Ye Shitian uttered a cold, merciless word, gripping the scythe of death, lifting it high, and striking down vigorously.

The accompanying Death Witch Gods immediately let out ferocious cries of ghosts and gods, all rushing into the scythe.

The scythe grew larger, completely covering the Nether Moon.

With one swing, what steel wire, what rainbow dragons, what balls...

When the Reaper calls for death, how can anything continue to exist?